


Blyleven Wins

by allegheny



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: 2018 MLB Season, Friendship, Gen, Minnesota Twins, Post-Concussion Syndrome, Theology, Very unrealistic dialogue, double play partners, trade angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegheny/pseuds/allegheny
Summary: Brian’s been in the organisation long enough to have heard the gospel of Joe Mauer a thousand different ways ; he’d prayed to the altar himself.





	Blyleven Wins

**Author's Note:**

> In the early 70's, each of Blyleven's starts were pretty much a guaranteed win for the Twins. All the team needed to do was score a couple runs. He was a steady presence, an anchor in the schedule.

He looks so much taller there, standing at first base. It’s not like Brian’s never stood next to him before that, but to see him there on the field rather than crouching behind home plate, free of the catcher’s gear and revealing the true extent of his gigantic frame, is a whole other affair.  
There’s a few hitches, but he’s pretty much a natural at first base, picks it up like he did everything else. Brian’s been in the organisation long enough to have heard the gospel of Joe Mauer a thousand different ways ; he’d prayed to the altar himself, every time he’d received a perfect throw to second to catch a runner stealing. He’d been guided by the Word, with every piece of advice he’d been bestowed that had made him better.  
But even Moses had doubts.  
There’s something about Joe that’s changed. He’s still the gentle, quietly funny leader that welcomed Brian to the big leagues the year before, but there’s a spot of silence on him, a white-out blot, an erased line. 

Whenever Brian catches him staring into the middle distance at his locker, like he’s tuning in to an inaudible radio frequency, like he’s hearing the voices of angels and eavesdropping down from Earth, he chucks his glove at him, David’s open hand to Goliath. 

“Wanna practice?”

Joe always smiles, somewhere on the spectrum between fatherly and childlike, between lost and found, cardinal and hypostatic.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.”

So speaketh the prophet.  
They’re a wonderful team. 

—————————-

It all goes very fast and Brian barely has time to say goodbye.  
Just like that, it’s all over.  
He has to pack up his locker, check his plane times, and say goodbye to Minnesota.

Los Angeles, the way Brian envisions it, is a Tower of Babel, a palace of noise and hands, a glory of tongues. Mobbed with promise, overwhelming with hope. 

He looks out to center field from the dugout and takes it all in one last time, the tall pillars of Minneapolis looking back at him like eyes in his mirror. The Twin Cities, standing before him, cosubstantial and coeternal, and the Mississippi like Solomon’s sword, flowing down in twists and turns through fields and valleys til it meets the Gulf, where the air is thick and the sun is hot, where Brian was born and never imagined a place where the river could have another shore. 

The Cities stare back at him, and he says thank you. 

Joe finds him, and there are some prayers you don’t say out loud. Some things only the spirit speaks.  
There’s a hug, long and warm, a hug like a benediction. And Joe’s red-rimmed eyes, his surprising faltering, a wounded dove-of-peace, tearing Brian’s heart in half.

“I wish it didn’t end this way. I’m gonna miss you.”

Brian’s at a loss for words, stolen for an answer. 

“You were there when I was lost. When I needed someone, you were a friend. It was hard on me, when Justin had to go. He was everything, and I was scared I wouldn’t be able to love you. Especially after the injury. I was afraid. I knew what was going to happen to me. And then all of a sudden nothing was the same anymore. But you were there. You were always there when I doubted. You reminded me why I love this game. You saved my immortal baseball soul.”

There are smiles through the tears, and Brian tries to remember them, because it never rains in LA. 

“You’re in my heart, Doz. I won’t forget. I’ll always be there if you need me.”

And it sounds like a mantra, like a communion, like a pledge.  
And Brian will believe it, and hold it close to his chest in his prayer book. 

“Now go. Go. You deserve this. Go, take what’s yours. Hold on, never let go.”

The clubhouse’s door shuts quietly behind him and a book closes.  
He can’t look back now.  
He’ll walk into the desert.  
Never truly alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Love me some unrealistic dialogue.
> 
> A little background : Mauer [was emotional](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDLjyvvhWK8) when Doz was traded. They were close friends, and Doz's settlement as a 2B starter coincided with Mauer's pretty emotionally taxing move to first after the concussion. Doz was also called up as a result of Mauer's bff Morneau being traded away, to fill his roster spot. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! leave a comment if you liked it?


End file.
